Kit asked Peter. They stood close together on the Hush rooftop. When she breathed in, she caught the scent of jasmine from the garden perfuming the air. Far below hummed the incessant traffic, but up here, she felt set apart from the teeming city, closer to the stars. “After that facial, the ballet was nothing.” He didn’t sound all that upset, though. In fact, she had a sneaking feeling he’d enjoyed the ballet more than he was letting on. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her and she let herself lean into his strong chest and enjoy the warmth. “You smell good,” he murmured against her neck as he planted a trio of kisses at her nape. “I think it’s the flowers up here that you’re smelling,” she said. “No,” he mumbled against her skin, sending shivers through her, “it’s definitely you.” “This is our last night,” she said, feeling her body respond to his even though they’d pretty much exhausted themselves—not to mention half-drowned themselves—in the big tub earlier.
